


Five Times Out

by Elfflame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, M/M, Romance, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2005-11-14
Updated: 2005-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco tries to figure out why Harry wanted to shake his hand after the war was over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Author notes:** Lots to say. First of all, this is dedicated to [](http://users.insanejournal.com/hill_/profile)[**hill_**](http://users.insanejournal.com/hill_/) , who did such a glorious job on pictures for my fic, Snapshots. I wanted to do something in return. I have this fic, and it's not finished yet, but I'm sure you'll love it, hon. It's lots of fun. It no longer fits with canon, though, so keep an open mind for me... I wrote the beginning of this long before HBP came out, so no spoilers at all. Also, thanks go to [](http://xanateria.insanejournal.com/profile)[**xanateria**](http://xanateria.insanejournal.com/) , who looked this over for me. She is chomping at the bit for me to finish the next piece, and told me to warn everyone not to drink while you're reading this. It could be hazardous to your health. ;) There are five sections to this, hence the title. Section two is nearly complete, but for the smut. I'm not sure how long section three will take me, so I hope you'll all bear with me. I promise you all that since I posted it at all, I'll finish it. :D

When Harry approached Draco the night of their Leaving feast, Draco was wary.But it was what Potter said that truly put him on edge.

The war was over.In fact, it had finished so quickly that if Draco had blinked, he might have missed it.The Death Eaters had come to Hogwarts, and Potter, as always, had met them head-on.By the time anyone realized what had happened, there was nothing left but the clean-up.Many of the Death Eaters had died, or killed themselves immediately afterwards in order to escape punishment, a few from Dumbledore's little group of heroes had been killed, and a handful of students, all from the upper years, had been hurt.

Draco hadn't even had time to fully declare his allegiance to the Dark Lord before Potter had rendered it an unnecessary decision.Not that Draco wasn't grateful, after all, he didn't fancy running around with an ugly mark on his arm for the rest of his life.He'd seen enough of his father's, and Professor Snape's even.

But that didn't mean he wanted to be friends with the poncy git.After all, they'd been rivals from day one.And it would stay that way forever, as far as Draco was concerned.But here was Potter, holding out his hand, and suddenly Draco was at a loss.

"I was hoping, Malfoy, that maybe we could start over.Do things right this time?"

Draco thought it over.It couldn't hurt to be seen making nice with the boy-hero of the wizarding world, after all.It didn't mean that they had to become friends, though.And father always said to make the most of every opportunity.Of course, look where _his_ philosophies had gotten him.A cell in Azkaban.

So, with the very tips of his fingers, Draco shook Potter's hand, then quickly pulled his hand back and wiped it on his handkerchief."Whatever, Potter.Not that it makes us friends."

Then Potter smiled.It was a smile Draco had never seen Potter use before.He wondered what it meant."Of course not, Malfoy."Potter nodded, then trailed by his entourage, disappeared down the hall, Weasley snarling back at Draco as they moved together up the staircase."I don't see why you felt the need to do that, Harry.Once a junior Death-Eater, always a junior Death-Eater."

Draco scowled.At least after tomorrow, he'd never have to see them again if he wanted.He returned to the Slytherin dungeons to finish his packing.Couldn't afford to leave anything behind any more.It would be strange never to come back.

It was morning before he realized it, and soon they were on the train, and it was over.Seven years of house rivalries, ignored papers, Potions classes, and Quidditch matches.How would he live without it?

But once back at home, other things took his attention, and soon he almost forgot what it was like to be at Hogwarts.He completely pushed the handshake from his mind entirely.

And time passed.All appeals to get his father released had failed, but Draco had managed to keep all of his inheritance, along with the Manor, though a couple of the villas had been taken by the Ministry in compensation for his father's actions as a Death Eater.Narcissa took control of the manor, throwing lavish parties in hopes of finding the perfect match for Draco, and finally Draco decided he'd had enough and rented a flat in the heart of London to escape her machinations.

However, once fully ensconced in his flat, the wheels began to turn once more, and suddenly all Draco could think about was that handshake.What did it mean?Did it mean something beyond a simple reconciliation?Potter's friends hadn't seemed to support it.So why had he gone out of his way to do it?It wasn't long before it was all Draco thought about.He just had to know the truth behind Potter's little ploy; but how?

It was easy enough to discover where Potter lived.The press had made that easy enough, and for some reason Potter hadn't tried to change that.So, Draco began to plan.He'd always been good at glamours.They were useful for hiding bruises when you had gorillas for friends who often forgot their own strength.So he cast a glamour over himself so that his beautiful silver hair was suddenly a dun brown, and his cloud-grey eyes became dark hazel.He darkened his skin several shades.Then he pulled on a black shirt and black slacks, transfigured a long black coat to brown, slipped it on, and apparated to an area near Potter's house to wait.

It was actually several days before he caught sight of Potter.Apparently the reason he hadn't changed residences was that he was hardly ever there.Draco watched as he closed the door behind himself and bounded down the stairs, not looking left or right, but striding purposefully down the street.Draco followed carefully after him until they came to an alley, and Potter turned in.There was a queue there, and Potter stood and waited to be let into a club that was belching loud music into the street.Draco allowed a few people to queue up ahead of him before getting into queue himself.

As Draco waited to enter the club, he argued with himself.Why on earth was he doing this?It wasn't like he wanted to talk to Potter or anything.Why did this matter, anyway?He was about to cut out of the line when he realized that he was next.Without thinking, he paid his cover charge, and entered the club.Like most clubs, it was smoky and dim, with florescent lights here and there along the walls that made any white or florescent clothing glow.At least it was a wizarding club.The costumes were outrageous, a mix of current wizarding fashions with Muggle designs from ages gone by.But the thing that truly startled him was that this wasn't just any nightclub, it was a gay nightclub.So, Potter was one of _those_ , was he?

Draco staked out a table and waved a waitress over to order a drink, then sat and began to nurse it as he watched Potter dance.He'd obviously improved in the last few years.He'd looked nothing like this during the Yule Ball fourth year.He looked sleek, happy, and as though he belonged.And though Draco didn't want to admit it to himself—after all, he was as straight as could be—he was…intrigued.And perhaps a little envious of Potter's partners.Halfway through one set, Potter caught his eye, and before Draco could slip away, Potter approached him.

"Anyone sitting here?"Draco shook his head, and tried to look like he was still interested in the dancers out on the floor."God, I'm parched.I always forget how hot dancing makes me."Potter flagged down a waitress and ordered a beer, then, glancing at Draco's half-full glass, added, "And another for my friend here."

Draco turned to look at him, startled."No, really, thanks.I'm okay."

Potter grinned, and Draco found himself dumbstruck.It was that same grin, from the day he'd shook Potter's hand the last day at Hogwarts."I insist," Potter replied, and shooed the waitress away to fill their order.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Potter spoke again."Harry Potter."He held out his hand for Draco to shake.

Draco hadn't thought that he'd need a cover story, so it took him a moment to respond."Um, Donald.Donald Mercer."He shook the proffered hand.It was warm, but surprisingly dry, and the handshake was firm.

"Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you there, Don.Probably not every day you meet a celebrity, eh?" he grinned at Draco.

"Celebrity?" Draco couldn't help but sneer.God, the freak's ego was even larger than it had been at school!"Should I know who you are?"

Potter's eyes went wide, and it was all Draco could do not to grin."Uh…Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived?"

"Sorry, doesn't ring a bell.Of course, I've been out of the country for much of my life…"

Potter looked puzzled, but seemed willing to let it go."Oh.So you didn't attend school here?"

"No, mum and dad wanted me to go to Beauxbatons, so we spent most of our time in France while I was attending.Even bought a house there so I wouldn't have so far to travel."Draco glanced sideways at Potter."Where'd you go, boy hero?Hogwarts?"

Potter looked up sharply at that."What was that?"His eyes narrowed, and Draco began to feel a bit worried.

"Just asked if you attended Hogwarts.It is the best school in Britain, right?"

"Um…yeah.Hogwarts.Great school.Had lots of good times there."He was eyeing Draco warily."What did you say your name was again?"

"Donald."

"Right."Potter was quiet for a moment."So, Don, ever play Quidditch over there at Beauxbatons?"

"Quite.I was picked as Seeker second year."

Potter smiled."Were you?What a coincidence.I was a Seeker, too.You any good?"

"I won three-fourths of the games I played in," Draco replied honestly.

"Not a bad record there.We did pretty good too.There was only one house at Hogwarts that ever gave us a real run for our money, though.Of course, they always cheated."

Draco was careful not to show any response to this aside from curiosity."Oh?Are you sure they weren't just very good?"

Potter smiled."Well, maybe, but they never did beat us…"

Draco took a swallow of his drink rather than respond.He looked up to see that Potter was still watching him."So…I'd guess all your friends were Quidditch players too?"

"Nah, my friend Ron was, but most of our dorm-mates weren't.Neither was our other best friend."

"Oh, was he not the sporty type?"

Potter grinned."No, can't say she was.She always hated it when Ron and I talked about Quidditch at meals."

"Ah.I see."Draco sipped at his drink, hoping that maybe Potter would go back to dancing, but as usual, Potter had to go and ruin everything.

"So, what are you doing here tonight?You're not here with anyone, are you?"

"No.Just heard the music, and thought I'd come in and see what the place was like."

"Ah."Potter watched Draco as he slowly finished his drink, then stood."Want to dance?"

Draco stared at him for a moment, startled."What?"

"Dance.Would you like to dance with me?" he grinned.

"Um, thank you, but no.I'm not really interested."

Potter looked disappointed, but nodded."Well, maybe later then."He turned and headed back towards the dance floor.

Though Draco tried, he couldn't convince himself that he should leave.He watched for over an hour as Potter ground his pelvis against several young men on the dance floor, one of whom had nearly platinum blonde hair.Draco ground his teeth, but he simply couldn't look away.Finally Potter returned to the table, and waved down the waitress for another drink.Drink in hand, he turned back to Draco."Great crowd tonight.One bloke actually gave me his number.Reminds me of one of the guys I used to play Quidditch with."

Draco wracked his brain.Had any of Potter's partners looked like his old teammates?And then he recalled the first young man he had noticed Potter grinding against.Tall and slender, with a mass of red hair that had kept flopping in his eyes.So he liked redheads, did he?The git had no taste.At least he could have gone for the blonde."Really.Going to call him?"

Potter looked at him wistfully."Oh, I don't know.The guy I knew never realized how I felt.Not sure I want to sully it, you know?"

"Why would the red-headed twit care?If he passed you up, it's his own fault."Draco took another drink, entirely missing the sharp stare Potter threw his way.

"Uh…yeah."He took a gulp of his drink, then looked at Draco determinedly."So, how about that dance, uh…what was your name again?"

"Donald."

"Right…Donald.Donald Malloy?"

"Mercer."If there was one thing Lucius had taught him well, it was how to lie consistently.He smiled, and waited for the response.

Potter nodded."Well, Mister Mercer, willing to join me on the floor yet?"

"I believe that I said I wasn't interested."

"Well, you are allowed to change your mind, you know," Potter grinned at him.

Draco smirked."Tell you what.I'll let you know if I do."

Potter nodded, a glint in his eyes."Well, your loss."He turned and headed back to the dance floor, and Draco watched with a scowl as he headed right for the redhead from before.Soon the blonde had joined them as well, and Draco's jaw was beginning to ache from clenching so hard.Potter and the blonde had their arms thrown around each other, and the blonde was resting his head against Potter's shoulder.The redhead danced behind Potter, his arms around his waist, with Potter's head resting on his shoulders.Draco could see the sway of their bodies as they moved together, and found himself waving down the waitress for what was at least his fifth drink that night.He hadn't come to get sloshed, but if he had to watch much more of this…

He swallowed half the drink in one gulp, then looked out to the dance floor again.Potter seemed to have deserted his companions, and they were dancing together, though not quite as friendly with each other as they had been with Potter.Draco looked around to see if he could find Potter, when he felt an arm encircle his waist.

"Hey, Don…" Potter's voice was low and husky in his ear, and Draco could feel his heartbeat speed up.

"Hello.Enjoy yourself out there?" He was proud of himself for how calm he sounded.

"Some, but the dancing partner I want is still nursing a drink."

"Well, bully for him."He wasn't going to give in.He didn't care who Potter slutted with on the dance floor.He was staying right here.

"Come on, Don.Just one dance?I promise I'll stop bugging you if you do."

Draco turned to tell the boy wonder exactly what he thought of that idea, but quickly discovered just what a mistake that was as he was lost in a sea of emerald.Maybe just one dance wouldn't hurt…after all, the other men seemed to enjoy his dancing skills.And it wasn't like he knew who Draco really was, now, was it?

"Don?"Draco realized he still hadn't responded.

"Huh?"

"Dance with me?"

"Sure.But just one, okay?"

There was that smile again."Anything you say, partner."He pulled Draco to his feet, and out onto the dance floor.Nothing in the world could have prepared Draco for the experience of dancing with Harry Potter.When, exactly had he gone from the snow-white, innocent boy-who-lived to the dark, seductive young man who was undulating his body against Draco's?And why did it make Draco feel as though he'd swallowed a gallon of pixies?The song seemed to go on forever, and Draco had to continually remind himself that he was only here for one song, and that after that he could leave.The problem was, his body didn't want to leave.It wanted to stay right here with Harry, grinding and undulating to this intoxicating music.But finally the song ended, and Draco pulled away.

"Thank you for the dance, Potter.I should probably get going.It's getting late."

"Oh, but the night is still young.Maybe we could go someplace else?"

Draco shook his head."I've already had far more than my quota tonight.Perhaps some other time, if I stumble across this place again…"

Potter moved closer, and Draco could feel their bodies rub together for a moment of glorious friction before he moved away again."How about a cup of coffee?My place is just around the corner, practically…"

"I really shouldn't."

"Oh, come on.If you're over your limit, you probably can't apparate anyway.It'll give you a chance to work it all through your system before you go home."

Draco desperately wanted to say no, but his baser instincts suddenly seemed to be in control.He wanted more of that lovely friction, and more, he wanted to know how those lips tasted."Perhaps just a cup.The walk will probably do me good, too."

Potter's grin shone through the room, and before Draco knew it, he was being pulled off the floor and out of the club.

He had hoped the cool air outside the club might bring him to his senses, but Potter’s hands never left him for more than a moment at a time, sometimes guiding, sometimes caressing, sometimes clasping his hand.And as much as Draco wanted to, he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from Potter.Before he knew it, they were ascending the short staircase to Harry’s flat, and his last chance to make his excuses was gone.

Potter smiled at him as he looked around the entrance hall.It was nice, a framed photo of three grinning men who looked vaguely familiar on one wall, and a coat rack stuck against the other.Potter led Draco to the archway which lead to what was obviously the living room.“Make yourself at home, Don.I’ll go get the coffee.Feel free to look about.”And with that, he was gone.

Draco found himself drawn to the photos on the fireplace mantle.Potter with Granger and Weasley.Weasley and an obviously pregnant Granger.Potter and the Gryffindor team third year with the cup.Potter, the two Weasleys and the rest of their team seventh year, again with the cup.Draco sighed and moved to the couch, where a photo album caught his eyes.

The first four pages were shots of each team from Hogwarts in their final year.Draco scanned his own picture quickly, then flipped further into the album, which was filled with candid shots from games, training sessions and more.One particular shot caught his eye, one of him and Potter both reaching for the snitch at the same time.It was a Muggle picture, so the moment was frozen, the intense looks upon their faces eternally fierce and never-changing.

He felt the couch sag beside him, and gasped as he looked up at Potter, who smiled reassuringly at him.He looked down at the shot Draco had been examining.“Oh, that’s my favorite.My last win against Slytherin.Perfect record there.”

Draco did his best to contain the sneer this caused.“Hm.”He shut the book and turned to Harry, who handed him a steaming mug.“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Harry grinned.“You know, Don, you remind me of someone I used to know.I didn’t know him too well, but I would have loved to have gotten to know him better.But he was so standoffish that never happened.”

Draco raised an eyebrow.“Oh?So am I his replacement, then?”

Harry chuckled into his mug as he took a sip of the hot liquid, before leaning back into the couch and throwing his arm along the back of the couch—right behind Draco’s shoulders.“Hardly.I’d say you have enough merits on your own.You’re quite attractive, you know.”

Draco snorted.“Do you even have a type, or do you just go for whoever is available?”

Harry set his mug on the table and leaned towards Draco.“Well, if I was that indiscriminate, you’d hardly be the one here, now, would you?”

“Ah, so you like them hard-to-get?” Draco smirked.

“Is that what you are Mister Mercer?”Draco could feel Harry’s breath against his lips when he spoke, and it made his breath catch in his throat.

“No…I…I’m straight.”

Harry chuckled.“Then why were you in a gay club, Mister Mercer?”

Draco squirmed, placing his own mug on the table in front of them.He could hardly tell Harry the real reason he’d gone there, but before he could respond, Harry was pressing forward again.

“And why aren’t you running away?” Harry breathed, his lips brushing Draco’s.

“I…” but it was the only word Draco got out before Harry’s lips were pressing against his.And truth be told, he didn’t particularly want to stop.It was the most glorious thing he’d ever felt.It was sure as hell nothing like kissing a girl.With a girl, he always felt utterly in control, and able to manipulate the situation to his advantage, but with Harry…He didn’t even feel the need to be in control.And that was the most alarming of all.

When Harry drew away, he was looking at Draco cautiously.“You okay with that?” he asked.

Draco had never felt at quite such a loss for words before in his life.“Uh…yeah.Wasn’t bad at all,” he said wonderingly.

Harry grinned.“Care for more?”

“I shouldn’t.I…”

But Harry was stroking his leg now, and working his way upward, and god, that felt so…

“Yes?” he asked, but Draco knew that Harry was aware of just how unable to respond he was.

“Please,” he finally ground out, his eyes shutting as that hand brushed past his groin and up to his belly.So close…

“Please what?” Harry whispered.

Draco couldn’t take it any more, so he lunged forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s, his body aligning almost perfectly with the other man’s. And when Harry began to slide against him, he couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his lips.He’d never felt anything this nerve-seeringly perfect before, and whatever else happened, he didn’t want Harry to stop.Not ever.

His hand came up to wind his fingers in Harry’s hair, and pull his face even closer than it already was.He wanted to taste every bit of that mouth and the wonderful tongue that felt as though it were as prehensile as a snake.If Harry stopped any of this now, he’d definitely have to follow in his father’s footsteps and kill the bastard.And if the stupid curse rebounded, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath, right?

He was so hard it hurt, but the pressure of Harry’s cock against his own was better than any girl’s lips wrapped around it any day.And that thought made him wonder if Harry’s lips would feel even better, and just the image of that black-maned head bobbing up and down in his lap as he sucked Draco’s cock was enough to topple Draco over the edge.

“Oh, god!” he cried into Harry’s mouth, feeling the other man stiffen and gasp as well.

Harry collapsed against him for a moment, breathing heavily.“That was…intense.”Finally, he looked up.“I really don’t usually go around attacking my invited guests, but I’d wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you at the club, and when we danced…”He lifted himself away from Draco, and Draco shifted on the couch, retrieving his wand and casting a cleaning charm on his now-soggy pants.

“It’s…all right, really.”He couldn’t look at Harry, though.He was sure he’d turned scarlet with horrified embarrassment.“I…well, I really should get going.It was good to meet you, um…Harry.”Harry tried to catch his hand, but he was out the door, down the front steps, and apparating away before Harry could stop him.  



	2. Chapter 2

Draco tried to forget. He hid the clothing he’d worn in one of the guest rooms and spent his days going through his finances and spending a great deal of time with his mother.

It had meant nothing. It was just a fluke. Or so he kept telling himself.

And after all, Potter’d had no idea that it had been him. If he’d known, he would have been horrified too, right?

But he couldn’t get that feeling out of his memory. Those lips—nothing like a woman’s—had touched something in him that he hadn’t even known had existed. And H—Potter had seemed almost human than night.

Still, it just wouldn’t do for the last scion of the Malfoy family to be gay, now, would it?

But when his mother began to plan yet another party to show him off, he couldn’t stand it any more. He went to the closet where he’d buried the clothes, and pulled them out to look at them. Did he really want Harry to remember him, though? After all, if it had been a fluke, returning to that club as Donald Mercer would mean he’d have to remember all the lies he’d told Harry that day. And perhaps if he went as someone else, he could prove to himself that it meant nothing, and that Harry wasn’t interested in him at all.

So he fashioned a new disguise. One that he was sure Potter wouldn’t find himself drawn to. Shoulder-length stringy black hair, sharp face, sallow skin, and black eyes. He smirked at his new reflection, rather alarming himself at just how much he looked like his former professor.

The clothing, too, was changed. The slacks became less form-fitting, and over the shirt went a vest, and the coat was transformed into a knee-length button-up that would take an army to get into in under five minutes.

Dressed and disguised, Draco apparated to the club.

The crowd seemed much the same, though he didn’t see Potter anywhere. He wondered if he’d have to come back more than once. But, as he approached the barmaid, he saw a flash of green out of the corner of his eyes and turned to find Harry in the midst of the dancing crowd, shining with exertion, and grinning his head off. He hadn’t noticed Draco, so he moved towards the back of the room where he could still see Harry, but would be lost in the shadows to anyone dancing.

He watched Harry dance for quite a while. Redheads, blondes, even a curly-haired brunette or two. He found himself envying the man Harry would take home that night, recalling those lips against his own, the feel of a hard cock against his. He took another drink, looking away from the dance floor to help himself cool off, but when he looked up, Harry was nowhere in sight.

At first he thought Harry might have left, but then he saw a flash of messy dark hair heading towards the bar. He fondled the arse of a blond as he sidled up and shouted out an order Draco couldn’t quite make out, then turned around to sip at it and survey the room. Draco was a second too slow in looking away, and he knew that Harry had caught him staring. But would he think that Draco was just looking, or would he wonder?

He didn’t have to speculate long.

“Professor?” a familiar voice said from his left.

“Excuse me?” he said in a drawl.

“Oh. Sorry. I thought you were someone I knew…”

“Hardly,” he snapped.

“You do look a great deal like him, though. Perhaps you know him? Severus Snape?”

“I’m afraid not,” Draco said tightly, trying to do whatever it took to chase Harry away. The longer he stood there, the worse the feelings got. If he would just leave…

“I’m Harry, by the way.” He stuck out his free hand, and Draco looked at it as though it were a particularly nasty insect.

“How nice for you.”

“Uh…” Harry licked his lips, and suddenly Draco couldn’t tear his gaze from Harry’s mouth. “Do you mind if I sit? There don’t seem to be many free seats at the moment.”

Draco swallowed. “I believe it is a free country.”

“Yeah…right.” Harry moved to one of the two empty chairs and sat looking out at the dance floor for a long while before he spoke again. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended…”

“I am hardly offended, I simply didn’t wish to speak to anyone tonight.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised. “Then why did you come here?”

Draco sneered. “I honestly don’t know what possessed me, to be quite frank. Perhaps I was simply out of my mind…”

Harry snickered. “Are you sure you don’t know who Severus Snape is? You do quite a passable impression.”

“Why? Were you enamoured of him? You seem utterly fascinated by me.”

Harry paled, and Draco had to take a drink to disguise his chuckle at Harry’s consternation. “God, no. The man was… Well, he wasn’t friendly, let’s put it that way.”

“And yet you find yourself somehow drawn to me?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

Harry chuckled. “Well, even someone you didn’t like becomes interesting when you run into them at a club like this one.”

“So, if I were this former teacher of yours, you would be interested?” Draco asked dryly.

“Hardly. It would just be nice to talk to someone I knew who was…like me.” He took a gulp from his glass, then stared morosely into the dregs. “All my friends are straight. Well, the ones I keep in touch with anyway. I heard Finnegan…”

“Look, I’m sure your life story is fascinating, but could you tell it to a different stranger?”

Harry scowled. “Sorry.”

They sat silently for a while before Harry spoke again. “Can I at least ask your name?”

Draco scowled. He’d prepared a name, but he didn’t want Harry thinking that he was friendly. After all, one didn’t just walk around as Severus Snape and act as though you liked spending time with others. He took a sip of his drink before responding. “Damian Moreau.”

“D—Damian…”

“Mister Moreau, if you please. We’re hardly friends. I don’t allow many people to call me by my first name.”

“Mister Moreau, then. I just wanted to know…”

“Yes?” Draco said in an exasperated voice.

“Would you be interested in a dance?”

Draco looked at him with a horrified look. “You want to dance with me? I thought you said you weren’t interested in that teacher that I remind you of.”

“I’m not. But you’re not him, are you? And despite everything, I think you’re quite intriguing. And I’d love to dance with you. If you were willing.”

“No thank you.” Draco scowled deeply at him for good measure, in hopes it would scare him away, but it didn’t. “Look, Harvey, or whatever your name is…”

“Harry.”

“Harry, then. I’m not interested, now please go away.”

“I’ll go away, but first you have to answer a question for me.”

Draco scowled at him. “And if I refuse?”

Harry smiled rather sinisterly, and Draco was rather surprised at how good it looked on his face. “Then I don’t go until you agree to dance with me.”

Draco sighed heavily, but inside he was a bit worried. He knew it was only a matter of time before he gave in if Harry really wanted to dance with him, and once they danced, he’d know Draco was interested. “Fine, ask your question, so that you can leave, then.”

“Why did you come here if you weren’t interested in talking, and don’t want to dance?”

“Who said I don’t want to dance?”

“I distinctly recall you saying so just a few moments ago.”

“Perhaps I just do not wish to dance with you.”

“Then why haven’t you gone to find someone to dance with? Why are you just sitting here nursing a drink?”

“I believe I have answered your question more than adequately. I do not think I need to answer further.”

“But you haven’t, Mister Moreau. You’ve simply suggested that you don’t wish to dance with me. So, if you’re here to dance, I’d like to see you dance. And I’m not leaving until I do.” Harry smiled at him broadly, and Draco could do nothing but scowl.

“Fine.” He stood up and scanned the room. But the problem was, there was only one person in the room he was interested in, and he was trying to avoid dancing with him.

He took a deep breath, and turned back to Harry. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone in particular that I would be willing to dance with.”

Harry smiled. “Well, what do you usually look for in a partner, Mister Moreau?”

Draco wasn’t sure how to answer this. After all, his only ever male partner was sitting right in front of him. “Well, someone near my age.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard. That’s at least half the guys here.”

“Someone who isn’t too…indiscriminate in their tastes. I like someone who knows what they want.”

“And how can you tell if they’re…indiscriminate, as you say?”

“They’re the ones who aren’t dancing with every man who comes in,” Draco sneered.

“Well, I suppose that narrows it down a little bit,” Harry smiled.

“Yes,” Draco responded, looking at Harry pointedly.

“What else?”

“I’d like someone who’s intelligent. Someone who can hold up their end of a conversation.”

Harry’s lips quirked at this. “I thought you said you didn’t come here for conversation?”

Draco glowered at him. “Well, if I found someone worth dancing with, I might have a conversation with them.”

“But you haven’t?”

“No. Are we done now?”

Harry thought about this with an exaggerated expression for a bit, then replied, “No. I don’t think we are. I think you’re lying to me, Mister Moreau.”

“And why would I waste my time lying to an imbecile like you?” Draco sneered.

“Because you’re trying desperately to get rid of me.”

Draco rolled his eyes and snorted. “You do have a high opinion of yourself, Mister…”

“Potter. But I’d prefer it if you called me Harry, really.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“So I find myself curious as to why you’re trying so hard to get rid of me, Mister Moreau. Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“Annoyed, is more like it. Please, don’t let me detain you.”

“Just one more thing, and I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Draco scowled.

“Why were you watching me when I was over at the bar?”

Draco slapped on a sneer as quick as he could to cover his surprise. He certainly hadn’t expected Harry to bring that up. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”

Harry smirked. “Right.” He stared at Draco for several minutes, then finally stood up. “Well, you’re about to get your wish, Mister Moreau. I’ll see you around.”

“I sincerely hope not,” Draco growled after him, then slumped back into his chair as Harry disappeared into the crowd. He’d made it. Potter was gone.

So why didn’t he feel pleased about it? Why wasn’t he getting up right this second and leaving? Draco sighed and began to search for Harry’s shaggy hair out on the dance floor. It wasn’t long before he saw him dancing with a redhead as close as he possibly could.

Draco ground his teeth. Well, that clinched that, didn’t it? Potter obviously had a crush on one of those abominable Weasleys. He should just cut his losses now and leave before the freak got it in his head to come back. But he didn’t. He watched as Harry made his way across the dance floor with the redhead, then back across it with a blond, which made Draco down the rest of his drink in response and stand up. There was only so much of this he could take, after all.

But before he could make it to the door, familiar arms wrapped around his waist. “Oh, surely you don’t want to leave without dancing with anyone, Mister Moreau?” Harry purred in his ear.

“I see no one here worth dancing with tonight. I will have to try another time,” Draco managed in a stiff voice.

“Come on, give me a chance, at least. I promise not to grope you… Unless you want me to, that is.”

“No, thank you.”

“Hm…Well, how about a walk then? I could do with some fresh air.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “And why would I want to walk with you?”

Harry’s head appeared on his shoulder, flashing a grin. “‘Cause I’m so good looking?”

“You have an over-inflated sense of self, Mister Potter.”

“That’s not what everyone else tells me,” Harry chuckled.

“Then go back and bother them,” Draco growled.

Harry sighed dramatically. “One would think you were trying to get rid of me, Mister Moreau. And that would just be impolite of you.”

“Perhaps I’m just an impolite person.”

“Ah, but you haven’t hexed me yet, so obviously there’s some part of you that likes the attention…”

Draco closed his eyes to try to calm himself this was getting him nowhere, and if he didn’t get out of here soon, he’d defiantly regret it. He couldn’t allow Harry to drag him out on the dance floor. That would only make this worse. But then, so would taking a walk with him. Even just standing here together was too much. It was all he could do to keep from rubbing up against Harry.

He opened his eyes and turned to face Harry. “What is it, exactly, that you want from me, Mister Potter?” he asked as calmly as he could.

Harry seemed to sober at the question. “Give me a half hour. Walk with me. I don’t bite. If, at the end of that time, you still want nothing to do with me, I’ll leave you alone. Fair enough?”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know you won’t be hanging off me the entire time?”

“My word of honour,” Harry said quickly. “I won’t try to touch you at all until the time is up. And then only if you wish.”

Draco sighed. That might work. Surely he could get through a half-hour of talking quietly with Harry, couldn’t he? “Very well.” He turned towards the door, and left in a sweep of cloak, leaving Harry to hurry after him.

They were silent for several minutes as Draco moved purposefully away from both the club and from the direction in which he knew Harry’s home lay. Finally, fed up with the growing tension from waiting for the first shoe to drop, Draco asked, “Well? I thought you wanted to talk to me.”

Harry sighed. “To be honest, I’m not sure what to say. You say you don’t know Snape. I guess that means you didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

“My father hired tutors for me. He didn’t like the Headmaster.”

“But you don’t seem to know who I am…”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Please. Just because I was uninterested in talking to you doesn’t mean your name did not ring a bell. I know perfectly well who you are. It simply does not impress me. I assure you, I am not one of those who goes fawning after celebrities. If you wanted that, you should have stayed at the club.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t. I never did. Even though others constantly accused me of it.” He sighed. “Including the teacher you remind me of.”

“Did he, now? I cannot imagine why…” Draco said, dryly. “Perhaps you are more hung up on your celebrity than you think, Mister Potter.”

“Not really. I’ve just learned how to use it to my advantage, is all.”

“By seducing strange men you’ve just met?”

Harry looked at him sideways. “What makes you think I do that?”

Draco snorted. “Because, Potter, you seem to be so caught up in seducing me, and I am quite sure we have just met.”

“Maybe we knew each other in a past life, then,” Harry smiled. “I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than an hour or so…”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. Harry couldn’t know who he was, could he? “That sort of thing is nonsense, Potter.”

“Well, all I know is that you remind me of someone I knew. Someone I wish I’d been able to talk to, like we’re talking now. Maybe things would have been different, then.”

Had Potter had a crush on Snape? Just the idea made Draco shiver. Such a horrible picture. “Different from what?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be alone, then.”

“You think that this person might have returned your regard?”

Harry shrugged. “I’ll never know now, I guess.” He stopped, and turned to Draco. “That’s my place over there,” he pointed across the street. Draco stared at it, rather shocked. How in Merlin’s name had they ended up here? He’d been so sure they were going the opposite direction. Harry spoke again before he could wonder further. “And it’s been a half hour, so I guess I’ll go. Sorry for bothering you…”

Before he could think about it, Draco called out to him. “Harry…”

Harry turned, the beginning of a smile on his face. “Yes?”

“Who was he? He hurt you so badly…”

Harry shook his head. “No. It was my fault. But it’s a long story. I wouldn’t want you to have to stand out here in the cold while I told you. Would you like to come up?”

Draco wanted to go up, desperately. To spend even a few more minutes with Harry. But he knew if he went into Harry’s house, very little talking would happen. “I’m not sure…”

“Damian… I know you don’t exactly like me, but I promise nothing you don’t want to happen will happen.”

Thinking about what he did want to happen, Draco flushed. “Very well, but only for a few moments. I really must return home.”

“Of course.” Harry smiled softly, then took his hand and led him across the street. They moved into the living room after Harry had taken Draco’s cloak, and settled onto the couch. Just remembering what had happened the last time he’d sat on this couch, Draco shivered.

“You okay, Damian?”

Not trusting his voice, Draco nodded.

“You’re not too cold, are you?”

The rush of heat that went through him at the thought of what Harry could do to warm him was too much. He leaned forward and pressed his lips awkwardly to Harry’s. It was everything he’d remembered. He’d hoped that it was somehow just a fluke. That he would kiss Harry and realize it had just been the newness of it all that had made it so wonderful the first time, but Harry’s lips, firm and demanding against his own were incredible, and his tongue licked carefully at Draco’s own lips until he opened them, surrendering now to Harry’s passion, and shuddering as Harry pushed against him.

Who cared who Harry had liked while they were in school together? He was here with Draco now, even if he didn’t know it.

Harry pulled away. “Are—are you sure about this? I told you, we don’t have to—”

“Potter, you talk too much,” Draco growled as he pulled Harry back within reach.

A glint grew in his eye. “Well, then…lie back.” He pushed at Draco’s shoulder, and Draco yielded, not sure what Harry was up to, but not caring any more, so long as he could kiss him again. Harry’s hands slid down his chest and to his trousers, and Draco jumped.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh. Just relax. I promise you’ll love this,” Harry grinned. He unzipped the slacks, and his fingers skated along the silken boxers underneath, working his fingers into the opening to pull out his cock. Draco moaned, feeling all his blood rush to the area. He couldn’t remember ever being harder.

“Oh, god, please…”

Harry was looking up at him wickedly. “What? What do you want?”

“I…I don’t know,” Draco managed with a gasp. “Just something. Anything. Please.”

Harry was breathing heavily on his cock now. “Is this enough?”

“More, please…” When that tongue that he’d been dreaming about for days finally flicked out to swipe at the just emerging head of his cock, his hips nearly lifted off the sofa, and his moan when Harry’s mouth finally engulfed his cock filled the room.

Harry’s fingers, meanwhile, were working their way down his shaft, meeting his lips with each thrust, until all Draco could feel was the mouth around his cock, sucking on him, pulling away, then sliding back down for more. His hips were jerking spasmodically, trying to increase the depth in Harry’s mouth, trying to get more of that warm wetness, the squeezing pleasure that made him sure it wouldn’t be much longer until he burst. Then there was a tickle against his balls, a slight squeeze, and then the fingers were sipping past them, delving further behind, and he was hitting the back of Harry’s throat, and he wanted to kill whoever had done this with Harry before, because he wanted this all for himself, and oh, god, what was Harry doing with his finger, rubbing him there, and why the hell did it feel so amazing? The finger slowly worked its way inside, and then he felt Harry nudge something, and shouted, feeling himself release into Harry’s mouth.

Harry continued to lap at his now-sated cock for a bit, then carefully tucked him away before standing up just enough to tumble next to him on the couch.

When Draco managed to catch his breath, he turned to offer the same. He might not have as much practice at it as Harry did, but he was a fast learner. “Would you like—”

Harry shook his head, smiling. “Not necessary.”

“But I’d like to reciprocate.”

“I just meant that—Let’s just say that I enjoyed that as much as you did,” Harry smiled lazily.

Draco looked at him for a moment, then flushed when he realized Harry was telling him he had already come—from sucking him off. “Oh. I—I should probably go, then,” Draco said, stumbling over the words as he stood, and trying to avoid Harry’s eyes. He couldn’t stay. Harry didn’t want him, just whoever was willing to come home with him. This had just been any other night to him. “Thank you for…” But he couldn’t think what to thank him for, so he turned towards the door. Good by, Mister Potter.”

Before Harry could say a word, Draco hurried from the house, and apparated away.


	3. Fic: Five Times Out

Draco adamantly refused to think about Harry after that, and threw himself into the plans for the ball his mother was arranging. She seemed quite pleased at his attentions, and they spent long hours at the Manor making plans. Then Draco would hurry home, exhausted, and fall into bed, slipping almost immediately into dreams, and thereby avoiding any lingering thoughts of a certain dark-haired, green-eyed hero. He still hated the idea of a ball, but it was better than remembering something he couldn’t have.

Draco looked forward to the ball with dread. Even before his infatuation with Harry, he had been hoping to find a way out of the commitment, and now that plans were proceeding apace, he was even more ill at the thought. How could any woman, no matter who she was, possibly compare to what he’d experienced with Harry?

When he arrived at the Manor the night of the ball, carriages already lined the drive, parents and their daughters were alighting in droves. He had been scolded by his mother for arriving so late when he entered the front hall, the lead into the grand ballroom, which was already swirling with couples dancing.

His mother then presented a parade of girls to him, and insisted upon him making promises to dance with each of them in turn. Dancing with the girls was abysmal. Sure, most of them knew how to dance at least moderately well, but each and every one of them proceeded to talk his ear off until he had been ready to have the next girl who told him how much she loved blond hair summarily ejected from the Manor with her lips tied around her ankles. He decided enough was enough after something like the twentieth dance, and grabbed himself two goblets from a passing tray of wine, then slipped off to relax on the balcony.

He’d spent a few quiet moments there before his solitude was interrupted by one of the girls who had come to the ball. She introduced herself to him—Orla Quirk, a name he vaguely recalled belonging to one of the younger Ravenclaws before he’d left Hogwarts. He’d been quick to make excuses, ready to brave the hordes inside rather than lead any one girl on, but somehow, he found himself talking to her. She seemed surprisingly intelligent, and far more interesting to talk with than her compatriots still dancing away in the ballroom. It wasn’t long before he found himself confiding in her about his dilemma. Oh, not that he was attracted to Harry Potter, but that he was finding himself attracted to another man, and wasn’t sure he ever wanted to marry any longer.

She had been surprisingly understanding. It turned out that she was only at the party because her parents had insisted. She was still attending Hogwarts, and hoped to go to France to a magical university in Paris after she’d gotten her NEWTs. As far as she was concerned, marriage was way down the road, and she hated her parents’ insistence she choose already. In fact, she told him, she had no plans to marry ever, if she could help it, despite her parents’ ideas on the matter.

It hadn’t taken them long to realize that perhaps each was what the other needed. Someone who could get their parents off their backs. In Draco’s case, he would no longer have to attend these infernal balls of his mother’s, while Orla would be able to go to Paris to study—at Draco’s insistence. They could be betrothed for as long as each needed, and should Orla find love in Paris… The two of them grinned at each other, then returned to the ballroom, hand in hand to share the “good news” with their parents.

Narcissa had been pleased, and the evening had ended with the promise that the Quirks would be invited to supper at the Manor very soon.

Unfortunately, this plan, while perfect for getting his mother off his back, helped with Harry almost not at all. He still had no way of approaching Harry as himself. If Harry knew who he was, he’d never be allowed anywhere near him.

Still, it didn’t stop him from going to Harry’s club for a third time. And this time, he decided to go all out. He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t want Harry this time. He even decided to use Harry’s attraction to whichever Weasley it was against him so that he’d be sure to catch his attention.

The glamour this time left him with a longer, freckled face, dark auburn hair that fell to his shoulders, which he pulled back into a queue, and dark amber eyes. The clothes he’d chosen were far more casual than any he’d worn before: jeans worn in all the right places, a t-shirt with some random Muggle sports team on it, and a team jacked for the Wasps. Black and yellow weren’t his favorite colors, but they would definitely catch Harry’s attention. There was no way Harry was going to ignore him this time. Not if he had anything to say about it.

Unfortunately, as usual when it came to Harry Potter, things did not go as smooth as Draco had hoped. For one, the club was even more packed than usual. Far more annoying, though, was the fact that every time he tried to meet Harry’s eyes, they would look past him to someone else on the dance floor, or to the door, as though he were waiting for someone for someone to arrive.

It was driving Draco mad.

Finally he’d had enough of hide-and-seek, and made his way to the bar to get a drink. For a moment he thought about buying an ale to stick with his disguise of Magical jock, but really, he just wanted something calming and familiar, so he ordered what passed for a white wine, and sat sipping at it, watching the dancers as he moped. Of course, that was when Harry finally decided to show interest in him.

“Hey,” he said to Draco as he waited for the bartender to come and take his order.

Draco, annoyed with Harry for avoiding him all evening, simply grunted in response.

Harry raised an eyebrow, and at first, Draco thought he’d leave it at that, but once he got his drink, he spoke again. “Saw you on the dance floor. You’re quite good.”

Draco grunted again. He’d actually gotten several offers on the dance floor, but none of them had meant anything to him. Of course, now that the person he’d wanted to pay attention to him actually was, he was feeling a bit less appreciative of the attention.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Not very friendly, are you?” he asked.

Draco turned and glowered. “What exactly does that mean?” he sneered. Just because he no longer felt kindly to the Freak That Kept on Living, that hardly made him unfriendly.

“I told you. I was watching you out there. You’ve had, what, a half-dozen offers tonight?”

Draco shrugged. “So?” It wasn’t like he was interested in anyone else here.

“So, I thought maybe you were waiting for someone specific because you kept looking around, like you were looking for someone, but you’ve been here several hours, and you still haven’t hooked up with anyone. I also thought maybe you just didn’t want to be bothered while you were dancing, but apparently it wasn’t just then,” he said. He took a sip from his glass, and settled back, looking intently at Draco.

“Maybe I’m just in a bad mood,” Draco sniffed.

Harry looked at him for a long minute. “Why?” he finally asked.

Draco looked at him, incredulous. “What does it matter to you anyway?” _Because you’re obviously not interested in me_ , he thought to himself.

“You just seem so upset. I’d like to help if I can, that’s all.”

“Your friend won’t miss you?” Draco asked in a snide voice.

Harry looked at him, puzzled. “My friend?”

“Whoever it is _you’ve_ been looking for all night,” Draco said coolly.

Harry looked at him, surprised. “I haven’t been,” he responded. Draco was about to snort derisively, but Harry quickly added, “Well, not really. There’s this guy I’ve seen here a couple of times. I was hoping he would show tonight, that’s all.”

Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to the dancing. He sure as hell hadn’t come here to listen to Harry going on about some other bloke.

Harry didn’t seem to be done talking to him yet, though. He stuck out a hand. “Harry Potter,” he said.

Draco turned back to him, an eyebrow raised. “Harry Potter, hm? Pleasure to meet you, ‘Harry.’ Subby Bordman,” he said snidely, pointedly not taking Harry’s hand.

Harry snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I know. It seems a bit unbelievable, but I am.”

“If you insist,” Draco said.

Harry shook his head, but he was smiling. “Well, ‘Stubby…’”

Draco rolled his eyes. No, there was something he really didn’t want to be called. Whatever had made him think of that old has-been anyway? “Daniel,” he sighed.

“What?” Harry asked, nonplussed.

“My name. It’s Daniel Martin,” Draco said, sipping at his wine and still watching the dancers.

There was a long silence, and Draco looked over to see Harry looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Interesting name,” he said after a long time.

“Oh? It’s always seemed rather boring to me.”

Harry shook his head. “Never mind.” The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before Harry spoke again. “So…would…would you like to dance with me?”

Upon finding himself faced with the invitation he’d been wanting all evening, Draco froze, no longer sure what he wanted. When Harry held out a hand, though, his uncertainty faded, and he nodded. He set aside his glass and stood up, taking the hand as he rose. “All right.” He was here, and Harry had finally asked, and he was hardly going to back down now.

The smile Harry gave him as their hands clasped made something inside Draco begin to glow. He wondered if Harry even realized the effect he was having on him.

They moved onto the dance floor, then Harry’s arms draped around him, and their bodies began to sway to the music. They danced for most of a song, but the floor around them began to fill at the beginning of the next song. Soon the floor was so crowded that they were lined up from shoulder to knee, pressing into each other with every move. It was impossible not to become aroused with Harry pressing against him that way, and Draco flushed, knowing that Harry could feel his interest grind into him with each movement of his hips. Then he realized that Harry’s interest was showing in much the same way.

Still, he wasn’t about to be the one to point it out. No was he particularly inclined to pull away. His arms wrapped around Harry, drawing him even closer. A soft breath of exhaled air against his neck had his nerve endings jangling. It was all he could do not to pull Harry’s face towards his so he could capture those lips that had featured so much in his dreams of late.

Harry mumbled something, and Draco pulled away so that he could see Harry’s face. “What?”

The green eyes that met his were more pupil than iris. “I said,” he responded in a low, husky voice, “let’s get out of here.” His hand slid down Draco’s back to rest on his arse, leaving him in no confusion as to what Harry intended when they were alone.

He didn’t object. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Harry’s.

The grin Harry gave him made his knees give out, and before he knew it, Harry had apparated them out of the club. He looked around, recognizing the entranceway of Harry’s flat. He glanced around for a second before looking back at Harry, who was glancing at something over his shoulder but looked back at him quickly.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to apparate out of the club like that,” Draco said with a soft smile.

Harry’s eyes glinted. “I can’t say that I particularly care. I doubt they’ll kick me out, given who I am.” He was rubbing Draco’s arse, but after a moment, he pulled away. “Come on. Let’s get comfortable,” he said.

Draco turned to the sitting room they’d gone to before, but before he could move far, Harry tugged on his arm. “No. This way.”

Draco tried not to let his surprise show. “All right,” he said, following after Harry. Still, he couldn’t help being a bit anxious. Was Harry taking him to his bedroom? What did he expect from tonight?

Harry led the way down a short hall, opening the door at the end. Draco’s heartbeat sped up at seeing that it was definitely a bedroom, and from the looks of it, it was Harry’s. The room was well-lived in, with a book on the bedside table, pictures of family and friends hung up on the wall over the dresser, and a stack of folded clothes waiting to be put away.

Harry ignored all this, though, and led Draco to the bed. When he turned to see the expression on Draco’s face, he smiled. “I promise I won’t bite,” he joked. When Draco didn’t respond, he ran a calming hand down his arm. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want.”

Draco took his hand then settled on the bed. “No. It’s all right. Really.

Harry sat next to him. “You sure? You look like you’re going to be ill.”

Draco shook his head. “I’m fine.” He took a deep breath. It’s just…” He swallowed. “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted softly.

Harry was quiet for a minute, then smiled, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “Then we’ll keep it simple,” he said. He leaned forward, brushing his lips across Draco’s, then nuzzling at his neck. He pulled away and looked at Draco again. “Can…” This time, Harry was the one who looked nervous, and Draco squeezed his hand supportively. “I…want to see you.” He tugged at the shirt Draco was wearing so that he would understand what he meant.

Draco was a bit concerned about Harry seeing him that way, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but want the same. “Only if that’s reciprocated,” he said with a nervous smile.  
 ****  
Harry grinned. “Definitely.” He pulled at his own shirt, tossing it to the floor, and Draco followed suit. He’d been nervous about undressing, but at the same time, he couldn’t keep himself from watching as Harry’s skin was revealed. He had to look away several times when he caught Harry doing the same to him so that he could hide his blush.

He couldn’t deny that Harry was gorgeous to look at. Even though he’d never stopped to consider a guy gorgeous before. He was slim and lightly muscled. Draco assumed he must keep up with Quidditch somehow. With the Weasleys, perhaps. He sneered at the thought, and focused on Harry again. A now very naked Harry. Draco watched as he moved to the bed, and he couldn’t help but think that he moved like a cat. One of those big wild cats. A panther, maybe.

Harry was watching him from the bed, grinning, and Draco had to look away from Harry, pulling at his jeans, rather embarrassed that he’d been caught staring.

Once he was naked, himself, he realized he had no idea what to do. He couldn’t ever remember being this self-conscious in his life. And he had no idea why. It wasn’t as though he’d never been naked around other guys before, or never seen a naked guy, but this was different. He really had no idea what to expect next.

Harry stood and pulled him back onto the bed so that they were sitting face to face. The two of them stared silently at each other, the only sound in the room their breathing. Finally Harry’s hand moved went to the back of Draco’s neck, and then he pulled Draco towards him. Their lips met, and Draco felt himself gasp a bit against Harry’s lips. How could he have forgotten this already? The way Harry kissing him felt? He found himself leaning forward to press into the kiss more, his hands going to Harry’s shoulders, clutching them tightly as they kissed.

Then Harry leaned back slowly, and Draco felt himself being pulled on top of him. The slide of flesh on flesh was nearly electric. He groaned into Harry’s mouth as he felt his cock slide against Harry’s thigh. Draco had had sex before, but it had been with women. And their soft bodies felt nothing like the sleek muscles and hard angles pushing against him now. He felt as though he were on the verge of…something he couldn’t quite name, and if he only moved in just the right way, he’d know exactly what it was. All he knew was that he wanted more of this. More of Harry.

His shifting hips brought his stomach into contact with something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about much yet. Harry’s cock was hot against his skin, and suddenly all he wanted was to touch Harry, to feel that cock against his own. He moved just a bit, shifting his hips over until they came into contact, and they both let out a groan.

Draco couldn’t understand how he had managed to live without this for so long. You had to be so careful with women, but Harry didn’t seem to need or even want gentleness. They bit and licked at each other, and Harry’s hands were on his arse, pulling him closer so that they could rub together more. Both of them were groaning at the friction of the sleek glide of their cocks.

Finally, just when Draco thought he wouldn’t be able to take any more, that he needed release now, Harry snaked a hand down to their erections and wrapped it around them. He didn’t so much stroke them as hold them together so that they could slide together more easily. It felt utterly amazing. Draco thrust into the ring of Harry’s hand, feeling Harry’s cock move with him, and buried his face in the joint of Harry’s shoulder, shuddering. He was so close to the edge. He wanted desperately to come, but at the same time, he didn’t want this to end.

Then Harry was stiffening beneath him, and he felt his cock pulse against him. The wetness hitting his cock made his own release impossible to hold back any longer. The two men shuddered in each other’s arms for a moment, then Draco slumped against Harry, drained. It had possibly been the most intense orgasm of his life. And it had been because of Harry Potter.

He moved off Harry, and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. So what did this mean, then? Was he gay? Or was this just about Harry, like so much else of his life had been?

He turned his head to look at Harry where he lay, still trying to catch his breath, his eyes closed, and his hair more mussed than ever. Draco smirked a bit at that. He was surprised that was even possible. He couldn’t resist reaching out to run his fingers through the dark strands, though. They were surprisingly soft. “You okay?” he asked.

Harry turned to look at him. “Amazing,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. Draco couldn’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss that smiled, catching the corner of his mouth, and licking it as though he might be able to taste his smile. Harry’s lips opened under his, and his tongue met Draco’s as it swept into his mouth.

When he pulled away, Harry was still smiling. His hand reached out to cup Draco’s cheek. “Stay with me tonight?” he asked.

Draco stiffened. That was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Glamours didn’t last more than twelve hours, and if he should accidentally sleep in… He pulled away and sat up. “I…can’t. I have things to do.” He slid off the bed, and began to pull on his clothes.

Harry sat up and watched him dress, looking sad. He didn’t try to stop him, though. “Will I see you again?” he asked quietly.

Draco stopped pulling on his shirt to look at Harry. He sat on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, looking as though he were lost. Or abandoned. Draco wanted to pull him into his arms and tell him he’d be back, but he couldn’t. Even if he could manage to put together the same glamour, he couldn’t stand the thought that Harry might fall in love with him wearing someone else’s face.

He shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said, his tone apologetic.

Harry’s eyes closed as though someone had just sentenced him to death. “I understand.”

Draco couldn’t stand it any longer, and without even finishing with dressing, he apparated away. Better that then to move back to the bed, back to Harry’s arms, Harry’s lips, Harry’s skin that was so addictive that he knew he’d never get enough. When he reappeared in his own bedroom, he collapsed on his bed and lay there for a very long time.


End file.
